"I'll be keerful," Amarilly assured him. "Jest show me whar to het up
the water. I brung the soap and a brush."

The artist lighted a gas stove, and, after carefully donning a long-
sleeved apron, Amarilly put the water on and began operations. Her eyes
shone with anticipation as she looked about her.

"I'm glad it's so dirty," she remarked. "It's more interestin' to clean
a dirty place. Then what you do shows up, and you feel you earnt your
money."

With a laugh the artist returned to his bedroom, whence he emerged three
hours later.

"This room is all cleaned," announced Amarilly. "It took me so long
'cause it's so orful big and then 'twas so turrible dirty."

"You must have worked like a little Trojan. Now stop a bit while I
prepare my breakfast."

"Kin you cook?" asked Amarilly in astonishment.

"I can make coffee and poach eggs. Come into my butler's pantry and
watch me."

Amarilly followed him into a small apartment and was initiated into the
mysteries of electric toasters and percolators.

He tried in vain to induce her to share his meal with him, but she